Alone
by TheMidnightViolet
Summary: Eleanor is alone - her parents and sister are dead, and her brother is away at war. Believing there is nothing left for her, she runs away. Religious concepts and ideas of the time are included. Rated T for language and violence.
1. Departure

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, the BBC, or anything like it. If I did, there would have been a fourth season.**

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November 18, 1192

The night was clear. A cold breeze rustled through the bushes. Clouds moved swiftly through the moonlit sky. And then I knew that tonight was the perfect night for my departure.

I wrapped my black cloak around myself and fastened it with a leaf-shaped pin. I left the hood down so my horse, Luna, wouldn't rear and wake the nearby village. I was leaving: leaving my home, leaving the village, maybe even leaving England if I have to.

What's the reason for my departure? You may ask. Fear, worrying, anger - witchcraft. I was born with bright red hair, one hazel eye and one bright green. When people talk to me, I give them a clever glance which makes my eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Some people say it's questionable, others say menacing-even demonic. I was afraid and worried for my life. I was angry at the world for believing such. Witchcraft is for fools, a destructive religion that kills anyone involved in it.

I walked over to the barn to get Luna, my only horse. Father had a horse before he died and the horse…no one knows what happened to the old horse. I just went to the barn the day after Father died and he was gone. Gone with the night and gone with the spirit of my father. I went to go greet her and stroked the white streak on her face.

"Luna, don't be afraid. This is for our own good." I reminded her. I stroked her forehead and walked over to get her bridle and blanket. Then I brought the saddle, which was heavier than anything I own. Saddle, saddle blanket-as usual. I flung a leather sack, which I sewn a strap for easy carrying, onto my shoulder and bent down to fasten the saddle. Then I walked over to the wall to find a suitable weapon for my journey. I took the longbow and quiver full of arrows and carried them on the other shoulder. I mounted Luna, gave her slight kick in her side and she reared. Making sure not to fall off my own horse, I gripped her reins. A simple request I muttered was: Dear God, help me on my journey.

Once Luna's hoofs reached the ground once more we galloped off into the night, never to see the lonesome cottage of Eleanor, the odd-eyed girl, again.

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**First fanfic, re-uploaded. Constructive criticism is appreciated. R&R please!**


	2. Memories

**Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood or BBC. I'm hardly old enough to work, let alone run the BBC.**

"Up! Up! Get up!" Someone shouts above me. My eyes burst open to find myself lying in a haystack and an enraged large, bearded man pointing a sword in the center of my face. "What d'you thinks you're doing?"

_Please don't see my eyes!_ I thought. I kept my face down to prevent the horror he would see. I swiftly climbed out of the haystack, brushed the hay off myself and pulled my cloak off the haystack. Apparently, I had used it as a blanket the night before. Strange, I packed a blanket. The man's sword followed my every move. I threw the cloak over my left arm, picked up my sack, bow and quiver, wrapped the cloak around myself, slung everything over my shoulders, mounted Luna-who was waiting patiently beside the haystack…and galloped off into the sunrise.

I only remembered the departure the night before. The rest of the night-and however the hell I fell asleep in someone else's barn-passed without a memory.

Thoughts raced through my mind. _Where am I? Am I still in England, or could I possibly be in Scotland? Or France?_ Nonsense, the man didn't even seem Scottish or French. One cannot travel to Scotland by horse and make it there in one night. And it would take days to go to London, get on a boat and make it to France. _Where did he get that sword?_ I began to think of the man-a farmer, possibly married with children, a son fighting in the Holy Land alongside King Richard.

Then I remembered-my brother, James-fighting in the Holy Land alongside thousands of men-men with families who worry and pray for them. Praying for them to come home – their children wondering why Father isn't coming home every night, why their brothers have to fight, why they're being taxed to poverty. But, sometimes I wish he could just get injured so he could come home. I know this is wrong. I know this is a sin. But if he hadn't left, if he hadn't abandoned me, Father might not have died, and I would not have run away.

_He could at least answer my letters._ He can read, he can write. _I've written almost ten thousand letters._ He never answered. _Ten thousand forgotten letters,_ _can't he see that I miss him?_ But one letter- the letter sent after Father's death, I remembered, copied ten times, and kept with me to remember my past-lest I forget.

James, May 21, 1191

Father is dead. Mother is dead. Our sister is dead. Please come home.

Your sister, Eleanor

Mother would have died either way. She always wanted two daughters: me, and a younger sister or a little me. She loved me and wanted a younger, smaller me, so when I was off married and gone, she would still have me-for a few years. But she was ill, and died the night after my sister's birth. Mother said when she died "Name her Addie, for when I'm in Heaven, my little Ellie, she will have a name."

Addie didn't survive either. Mother's illness weakened her severely. She was born a small, sickly baby with a little chance at life. A woman heard about Addie and told Father "Give the child to someone who can care for it! That's what you ought to do!" He never would, and never did. Giving away our baby sister would have been the death of him.

When she eventually died, people started to talk. They said the reason so many people died was because of me-because of my different-colored eyes, because I knew more than most women do.-I can read and write, and do some math figures-because I know as much as a child with a tutor does-because I know more than the average miner's daughter knows-because I'm smart. And the fact my whole family was dying off around me.

Some took pity. I remember their words. "Terrible shame, children should outlive their parents. This one did-by a few days." Some laughed. What kind of inconsiderate, selfish, unsympathetic person laughs at a burial? Bless the ones who didn't laugh. They have a heart.

Father began doing foolish things after Mother and Addie's death. Foolish things led to his death. He wanted to thatch the roof the day he died. It has just rained and the rain weakened the roof. I told him that I could do it. I was lighter and less likely to fall. I told him it could wait until tomorrow when it would be drier. But he wouldn't listen and climbed up onto the roof despite my warnings. Then, the straw gave in and he fell through. I can still hear his scream and the horrifying sound when his neck snapped, every time I think of him. All I remember now is that he loved Mother, James, Addie and me, and his death. I still hear it now, and I can never forget it.

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	3. Dreams

**Disclaimer: Never in a million years will I own Robin Hood or the BBC. And no one expects me to, considering that Robin Hood was canceled after the third season.

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Luna stopped. I kicked her stomach for her to continue, but there was no response. I dismounted and walked over to see her face. She was sleeping. Luna needed rest and so do I. I've decided to sit underneath a tree and eat what I've packed-three apples, a loaf of bread, a set of men's clothes, a needle tucked away in thread (if I tore my clothes or cut myself), a knife and a blanket. I could have baked a meat pie but once I ate part of it, I would have to eat all of it, therefore it wouldn't spoil. That's also the reason why I didn't bring any meat or cheese, like most travelers do. Three pence was all I had to my name and I took precaution not to lose them.

I had become oblivious of my surroundings, and soon realized that I had sat beneath a tree beside a road. Dirt, hoof prints, footprints, carriage tracks- a simple country road. I tossed my bag over my shoulder and crawled closer, to see if anyone was coming. I leaned against a tree and listened. Silence. I didn't hear any hoof beats, so I suspected that no one would be out in a carriage this early. I had left at sunrise, traveled for quite a distance, but the sun has not reached the center of the sky and it is not as bright as it is at midday. So it was still morning.

I pulled the loaf of bread and an apple out of my bag. I tore a piece off the bread and tucked away the rest. I ate the bread and the apple, and threw the core against the tree facing me. The core hit a branch and a fresh apple fell on my skirt. I picked it up, examined it to make sure there was no rotten spots-none. I looked up, laughed and whispered, so softly that only God could hear me, "Thank you."

I leaned my head back against the bark and drifted into a dream of memories.

_July 15, 1190_

_We sat eating supper. Mother had cooked meat and vegetables and I bought a loaf of bread._

"_I'm leaving." James said._

"_Leaving? But where?" Mother asked. Her face was stern and concerned._

"_To the Holy Land, I want to make peace and put an end to the bloodshed. Convince King Richard, so all the men can come home to their families."_

"_That's very kind of you. Kind, bold-"Father started._

"_Are you mad!?You'll be killed!" I interrupted._

"_Eleanor Llewellyn! You know not to interrupt your father! If you do that to the Sheriff-" Mother scolded. She couldn't bring herself to say the consequences. Lose a hand if you hunt on the Sheriff or a knight's property, or if you speak out of turn. Lose your life if you steal. Lose your tongue if you refuse to give information._

"_I know the consequences, Mother! Morbid, brutal, immoral, unjust-intolerable! Someone has to do something about it!"_

"_Eleanor! Never speak ill of royalty!" Father shouted._

"_But he doesn't deserve to be called royalty! He's an old toad who sits on his backside all day, taking money from those who need it most!"_

"_You will hold your tongue for the rest of the night!" He continued._

"_Fine, then!" I sat fuming. "But when you see a family begging on a street for money, and you have nothing to give, you will know how it feels!"_

"_When are you leaving?" Mother asked. Her tone was suddenly more cheery. She was always good at changing her mood-unlike me._

"_Sunrise tomorrow," he swallowed. "We're leaving for Portsmouth. Fifty men and I are staying at taverns and inns nearby and then the next morning we leave by ship for the Holy Land."_

_Sunrise, July 16, 1190_

"_Goodbye!" He shouted. "I will have the tavern owner return him tomorrow morning. I will see you again when there is peace in the Holy Land!"_

"_Goodbye!" Mother and Father shouted._

"_I'll write to you!" I shouted._

_He galloped off into the sunrise as we stood outside and saw him off. But none of us ever saw him again._

_December 29, 1190_

"_Mother, how are you feeling?" I asked._

"_Fine, fine," A smile spread across her face. She began to cough again._

"_Mother, please, has something to drink." I sat beside her and poured her a cup of water. I reached out to give her the wooden cup. "It will make you feel better."_

"_No. I don't need anything. I only ask you for one request," her eyes closed, but her smile remained. I put the cup down._

"_What is it? Anything," My eyes were pleading._

"_Name her Addie, for when I'm in Heaven, my little Ellie, she will have a name." She sighed her last breath._

"_No, Mother! Please! Don't go! I need you- Addie needs you! Please! Don't go! Mother!" I cried._

_Father stood behind me. His face was solemn and hopeless. He kept his face down and shook his head. He walked over and put his arms around me._

"_Once James returns, we will be a proper family again- I promise." He said._

_Unknown_

_A dark, hooded figure rose above me. I kept a solemn, stern, angry face._

"_So this is Death?" I asked. "You are nothing-nothing but a common thief, stealing from children, mothers and fathers. You leave them with empty hearts, empty souls and nothing to live for. So you take them and punish them for eternity. So how does that make you feel?"_

"_I feel nothing." He answered in the most demonic tone._

"_You do not scare me. I have lived my nightmares many times over. And you are not afraid? Of course, not, you feel nothing. You see nothing. You are nothing."_

_He lowered down and disappeared, leaving nothing but his cloak._

"_Ha! I have conquered Death!" I laughed. But then I looked around me. There was nothing. Then I finally understood. Death is all around me. But Death is never permanent-there is always Heaven.

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	4. Clun

**Disclaimer: I don't own. You know the drill.

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I awoke under the same tree, beside the same dirt road, in the same clothes that I fell asleep in. They were dirty and covered in mud and dead leaves from the trees. I looked around. There were trees surrounding me-a forest, one of the many forests in England.

_Heaven,_ I thought. _They all said they would wait for me in Heaven_. That's the last thing both Mother and Father said just moments before they died. Father may not be in Heaven. His death was on his own account. He wanted to die. He killed himself in the least suspicious way. There was enough trouble with suspicion.

I know Mother and Adelaide are in Heaven. Mother wouldn't be proud of me, though. I know that. I stole James's old clothes. I ran away. I abandoned our home. She isn't proud of me. But I ran away for my life. I know what they do to people they believe are witches and heretics-they are drowned in the ponds and streams of England. _But,_ I continued to think. _What's so good about Heaven if you can't be with the ones you love that haven't died yet? But you're with God, and it's better than Hell._

I've been daydreaming enough. I need to travel. Luna was awake. She had eaten, that I know. She stood on the other side of the dirt road, grazing. It was a patch of grass in between the dirt road and the forest. Her saddle was kept on, I knew I forgot something. I stood up, brushed the dead leaves off my skirt, though it was still dirty, and walked over to find her.

"Let's go explore this road. It will lead us somewhere, Luna." I stroked her neck once her head was up, pulled an apple out of my bag and gave it to her. She ate the apple, including the core and stared at me. I took her by the reigns and walked her to the center of the road and mounted her there. We started at a trot, so we could enjoy the forest-and whatever lies at the end of the road.

We traveled until we reached a wooden wall guarded by men dressed in black and gold- the Sheriff's men. A guard walked towards me.

"What are you doing here? The village of Clun is under quarantine." He said.

"Quarantine-what for?" I asked. If there was nothing, the Sheriff is doing something.

"Pestilence," Good- an answer.

"Pestilence-how long has it been?" If it had been more than a few weeks, something was wrong.

"About a month, maybe more,"

"A _month?_" Something _was_ wrong. The Sheriff did something-something terrible. "The pestilence is gone by now. There's quarantine, no one can leave. There's no trade, no money. They'll starve!"

"Well, sacrifices must be made for Nottinghamshire's sake."

"But _people_! This is barbaric! You're letting them die! Surely you'll have a heart and do something! You can't just sit here and watch!" Anger spread across my face. It was evident. If there is one thing that I'm terrible at, it's hiding my anger. A blind man could tell that I'm angry. A deaf man could tell that I'm angry.

"Well, if you feel that strongly about it, missy, you can go speak to the Sheriff," I made myself seem less angry. I lifted my head, and stared down towards him, giving myself a more noble appearance.

His face became solemn and he stepped back. I remembered my mismatched eyes, and closed them quickly.

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**I know this is one of my shortest chapters. They looked longer on Microsoft Word, I'll try to make them longer. Read and Review please!**


	5. Stars

**Disclaimer: For the eighth time: I do not own Robin Hood or the BBC. The BBC owns Robin Hood, I do not.

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And so we left. We traveled until I needed rest. That was until after dark. Eventually, I had to rest and I lay down next to a series of bushes and small trees, on a hill.

I lay there, with my hands folded behind my head. I looked up. The night was clear and the stars seemed to smile down upon me.

"You see that, Luna?" I pointed to the moon. "That's you. Well, not really. But that's what your name means. Luna means 'moon'. I heard that when Father would take me to market in Nottingham. The man who I heard it from is probably an alchemist or physician by now." I smiled and turned my head. She stared at me with boredom. She obviously didn't care. "Ah well, it still is beautiful."

I sighed. I never knew the night sky could be so beautiful. Mother would say that when someone goes to Heaven, their soul becomes a star. I used to laugh at that, but now since all of my family is gone, I do believe. I know it seems childish, but I do think that Mother is watching me from the stars. I started to connect the stars to make different shapes, like how a child stares up at the sky on a clear day to see if the cloud looks like a duck or a squirrel.

I spent that night thinking of what I would do with my life. I was a runaway. I could become an outlaw, but that would simply lead to a hanging. Unless I was careful, I could live. But I would have to wear James's old clothes and cut my hair. No one would believe an outlaw in a dress. Or I could become a servant. Not the Sheriff's servant, I would go mad if I had to serve a loathsome rat like the Sheriff. Maybe even a tavern girl in Nottingham. A meal, a place to stay; that would sound nice. I could be adopted by a family like how my family was. But no one would believe a poor family could afford a horse. I had to accept what I would become – a fourteen-year-old runaway with no family and no future.

But there was one thing I needed – a home for the winter. It was already November, it was getting colder and winter was coming. I could stay out for a few more weeks, but I would need money and food in only days. I could live off bread and apples for a few more days. But soon I would have to go buy food in Nottingham. Today was Sunday, I thought since Wednesday is Market Day in Nottingham I could get some meat, some more bread and hopefully have a shilling left over. But I would have to eat something other than bread, water and apples.

That's how Mother died. All we had was water and bread. She was the first to die.

Eventually, all this thinking made my head hurt and by first light, I was asleep.

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	6. Nightmares

**Disclaimer: Here we go again. I do not own the BBC.

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_January 5, 1191_

_I stood hovering over the cradle as Addie lay sleeping. She was small, but I was beginning to believe that she would live. I pulled the blanket over her. Maybe Mother would have her wish. I smiled and went to bed._

_Soon I was asleep and I awoke the next morning to find that Father was gone. I walked over to the cradle to see if Addie was awake._

_I bent over to hold her, but when I touched her, she was cold. I held my hand just over her small face. No breath. She was dead. My infant sister was dead. My one glimmer of hope…was shattered._

_I placed her back in the cradle, and then collapsed and cried. All I had now was Father, and two horses._

_Soon, Father came home with two buckets of water balancing on a stick he carried across his shoulders. He dropped the buckets, making sure they wouldn't spill, and said with his normal solemn tone "She must be buried."_

_I wiped my eyes, forced a smile and nodded. He walked toward me, and hugged me._

"_Once your brother returns, we will be a proper family again, I promise." He said._

"_You said that before Mother died. How do I know you will keep your promise?" I sobbed._

"_This is the promise I will keep forever, my little Ellie, I promise." Promising to keep a promise, this was new._

_I broke free of his embrace and turned away to face the cradle._

"_Ready the baby for burial. She will be buried at sundown." He then left._

"_Wait!" He returned. "Bury her next to Mother. A mother should be buried with her child."_

_He nodded and left._

_I sat down next to the cradle and cried. I raised my head and closed my eyes._

"_Oh, Mother, why did you have to leave? If you didn't leave, Addie wouldn't have died! Can't you see that we need you here?" I sobbed. "Mother, I need you!"_

_April 3, 1191_

"_I'm going to thatch the roof!"Father shouted. He carried straw tied up on his shoulder and a handmade ladder._

"_Father, no! It's too weak! You could fall!" I called as I carried two buckets of water from the village well to the house._

"_Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." He assured me. But I knew that he wouldn't be fine. He leaned the ladder against the roof._

"_Father, no! It's damp and weak from the rain! It will break!" I cried. I dropped the buckets and ran towards him. He was already beginning to climb. "Father, do you want to die?"_

_He was on the roof when I started to climb the ladder after him._

"_I'll be fine. Nothing will happen. Remember, I still have to teach you how to use a sword- I promised you." He answered._

"_Let me do it! It's safer that way!" I cried._

"_If something happens to you, I'll never forgive myself. Please, let me. I've already lost two children and your mother." He said. I could hear it in his voice-he was going to die. This was his way of suicide._

_I jumped down the second step of the ladder, not caring if anyone saw me. All that mattered was Father. I ran inside and shouted up to him. "Father, no! You're all I have left! Please!" I looked up and cried. I was crying, and I didn't care. All I wanted was for Father not to die._

"_I'll see you again in Heaven, child!" There was nothing I could do._

_He threw straw over the weakest point and crawled forward. He was crawling over the weak point when-_

_He fell. The straw wasn't strong enough. _Crunch!_ His neck snapped and his bones were shattered. The back of his head was bleeding and a puddle of blood soon surrounded his body._

**Very sad. *Tear* It was supposed to be that way. R&R please!  
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	7. This Is A Forest

**Disclaimer: I am just barely old enough to get a summer job. So I don't own the BBC.**

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The days followed routinely. Travel until dark. Sleep through the night. Eat what I had. Buy food in Nottingham. Try to avoid the Sheriff and his guards. Feed Luna what I could find and what she could eat. That was, until we ran out of food and I had to find another way of finding it, that wasn't waiting for an apple to fall on my lap. I had to put my bow to good use.

We traveled into a forest with many trees and many rocks. I looked around; made sure I wasn't seen and changed into my brother's clothes. They were very comfortable, I had then realized and I wondered why I hadn't done this earlier.

I attempted to climb one of the trees, but failed disastrously. I had told Luna to stand and wait for me to return, then went to find a good hunting place. I eventually found a boulder, more like a cliff and climbed around it to the top.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes and smiled. I looked around-trees, birds; a terrain hidden by dead leaves, and off, far in the distance was Luna - a bored crow in a world of brown and green.

I stood there, waiting, watching, listening hunting. I imagined myself – a stealthy hunter waiting for the kill. Silence. The only thing audible was my roaring stomach. I was about to give up and move when-

A rustle of leaves-something was moving through the trees. I looked up and slowly readied my bow. Another rustle, but in the same place- I pulled back on my bowstring and let go.

Nothing fell. There was nothing. And I thought there was a squirrel.

"Damn, it broke." I heard someone mutter. I wanted to say "What broke?" but I couldn't risk it. "Another outlaw snapped."

I spoiled someone's plan-an outlaw's plan. But not just any outlaw-a very clever outlaw. Now I had to run.

I ran, unaware that I had just passed Luna. But I didn't care if she followed me. If she galloped in front of me, I would have simply mounted her and galloped off at twice the speed that I could run. But I didn't care. I was practically running for my life. This I had to get used to.

Everything passed in a flash of brown. Until- I tripped on something hard and sharp. I looked down. A pile of grey stones and a wooden cross to my right – this was a grave.

A fresh grave; I was running as if I stole ten pounds from an angry merchant- and I trip on a grave. Of course, I knew this was disrespectful. I crawled up and looked down. The clothes had several tears and a cut just below the knee-not deep enough to require stitching, but would leave a scar. It would need bandaging and I had no clean cloth-but I knew one place that would.

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	8. Returning Home

**Disclaimer: After a while, you get tired of typing disclaimers. I don't own the BBC.

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_No,_ I thought. _No you must be absolutely mad to go back there._ What if I am? _Then you're a fool._ No, I'm not. _They'll hang you._ I'll escape. _No, you can't._ Then it's only my life. _But you aren't afraid?_ What would they hang me for? _For being a witch._ Do they think I am? _Yes, they do._ But I'm not. _They have proof._ Do they? Are three deaths enough proof? But it wasn't my fault. _You're smart._ Is being smart any proof? _They don't need proof. You'll hang. _No, I won't. _Yes, you will. _No, I won't. _Yes, you will!_ No, I won't! _Yes, damn you! You can't even listen to yourself!_ No, I will not hang for going to my own house! _You should die for denying the truth!_ No, I won't! _Yes, you will die!_ NO, I won't! _YES, YOU WILL! _NO, I WILL NOT! _YES, YOU-_

"SHUT UP!" I shouted. "I cannot hang for going back to my own house!"

And it was settled. I would return home for clean cloth and to tend to my wound, then I would leave and never come back.

I had decided to walk Luna instead of riding; she had done enough running anyway. And speaking of running, I really needed to get some cloth and water, for the blood from my cut was beginning to run down my leg.

Finally, within the day remaining, I reached my village. But, I wasn't given a proper greeting. Smiles and hugs and laughter is what I first expected-but no, people dropped whatever they were doing, ran into their houses and slammed the door shut. I didn't look towards them, for I knew they would be terrified and think I'm a witch. I had to forget the simple abuse of the people I befriended so many years ago, and get on with my current goal-my physical wound and forget all the emotional wounds.

I limped into my house only to find it ransacked- table and chairs either overturned or missing, blankets and pillows torn or stolen, the few pence I left behind, scattered over the dirt floor, a Bible laying open on the upturned bed, shattered pottery everywhere, some scorch marks on the walls, and the horrible stench of mould.

I was forgetting my true purpose here. I limped to an overturned chair and set it upright. Over by the bed, I picked up a wooden cup. That would do. Now I need some water and cloth. Beneath the bed was a bucket for the well. I picked it up and went to the wall for the water-literally, I stumbled to the well, because my knee was beginning to swell and I was in great pain. Eventually I returned to the house, and found some cloth near the hearth. It wasn't the cleanest but it would do.

I lifted the leg of my trousers to begin the procedure. _Oh my-_ I thought. I had nothing to say but that. There _was_ nothing to say but that. My wound had swelled and had become slightly purple. I was wrong. This_ would _need stitching. Luckily, I came prepared.

With the cloth, I cleaned the wound. Though it hurt, I could handle the pain. Dip, pat. Dip, pat. Eventually, the water became pink with blood and I began the stitch. Stitch, wince, stitch, wince, and gasp with pain. The wound was clean and done, so I wrapped it in the cloth, just in case.

I had decided to rest my wound for some time and I needed something to pass the time. With this time, I cleaned the dried blood on my leg, sewn together the tear in James's old trousers, and thought of the one way I would get food-Nottingham.

But I would need food for tonight. There has been no food for several days and my hunger was beginning to take its toll. There was no bread, no meat, only water. I desperately do not want to steal. I cannot steal. Stealing is for thieves and outlaws- I cannot be condemned to hell for this vanity and thieving.

Finally, by the time it was near sundown, I was ready to leave my home. But right when I was closing the door, there was a small child, possibly five or six years of age, running towards me with open arms and two blonde plaits following close behind.

"Ellie!" she shouted with a small excited voice, and I knew exactly who she was: Jennie, the cooper's young daughter. Before Adelaide was born, I would watch after her while her father made barrels and her mother worked in the fields for a few pennies.

"Jennie!" I smiled and kneeled down to her height.

"Oh Ellie, I missed you! Where have you been for so long?" She cried.

"Jennie, I haven't even been gone for a month," I laughed.

"But it felt _so_ long!" she whined.

_That's because you were so alone. Not old enough to work and your mother has to work, so you're alone._ I thought. "Jennie," I said, quickly changing the subject. "How old would you be now?"

"Five, I think," she raised her right hand to show me five fingers. I smiled.

"Not meaning to be rude or anything, but may I stay with your family tonight? Someone tried to destroy my home and-"

"Oh, so you know." She cut me off. If she was older, I would have become agitated. But I can't scream at Jennie, she's only five. "Soon after you left, some men tried to find anything devilish in your house to try and see if you were really a witch. They had torches and were about to burn down your house, but Papa stopped them."

"That explains the scorch marks," I mumbled.

"What?" she stared up at me, her head cocked to one side and her eyes beaming.

"Oh, nothing, nothing - but can I?"

"Of course! We might not have much, but there's enough…sometimes," she started, her tone becoming depressed. I knew exactly what she meant- Father worked in the mine for pennies every week up until the cave-in, and still not having enough to feed a family of five. "Papa makes barrels, but we only have money when the barrels are sold, and he's not selling much now. Mum works in the fields for some pence, but sometimes…there's still not enough."

"I know." I said grimly.

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	9. This I Promise You

**Disclaimer: Dear BBC, I do not own you.

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"Well come on! Supper's ready!" Jennie's mother called from inside the house. I was helping Jennie carry a pail of water to her mother. "Hurry up!"

The supper was pottage. The contents: a small amount of cooked vegetables and bits of diced meat that may just have been mouse. _Poor thing_, I thought.

There was little conversation at supper, holding off until just before bed. Jennie and I were chattering like little birds, and several times her mother and father had to tell us to be quiet and sleep. But very, very late in the night, the vital question came.

"Ellie, are you going to leave again?"

I looked down, despondently. "I'm so sorry Jennie…but I must. There's nothing left for me here…and if I stay with you-there's barely enough to feed one child, let alone two. I can't be a burden on your family, Jennie."

"So-so you are leaving?" She was close to tears. "And you're not coming back?"

"Jennie, you have so much to learn," I went to embrace her as if she were my own.

"No!" She pushed me away. "You're leaving' and you're not coming' back, I thought you were my friend…and you just leave me!" She sobbed.

"Oh, Jennie…" I started. "I'll be back, I promise. I'll be back when it's warm again, alright? I'm not going to leave you."

"You p-p-promised; like your p-Papa did," Jennie continued.

_Oh God._

"Your Papa p-pr-promised you so many things," She sobbed. "A-an-and he never g-got t-to them, h-he never did."

"I'm not like my Papa, I'm not," At me saying this, she came closer. "I won't leave you, alright?" She nodded through a tearstained face. "Now come on, come over here." She walked towards me and collapsed into my open arms. "Calm down…it's alright. I'm not going to leave you forever."

"Promise me…promise me you'll come back…" Her small fists clung to my dress.

I sighed and stroked her hair. "I promise, now promise me. Every night look at the sky whether it's light or dark, just look up and think of me. 'Cause, chances are, I'm doing the same, alright?"

"I promise, I promise, Ellie." Jennie replied. "I promise…"

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**Reviews are appreciated! **


	10. The Manor

**Disclaimer: I don't know how many times I've said this: I don't own Robin Hood. The BBC does, I don't.**

**This chapter takes place about two weeks after the incident with Jennie and Ellie.

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I was starving. I had run out of money over a week ago and food several days ago. It was getting colder, and I had nowhere to stay. Luna and I had come across a house that I could steal from, and knowing this, I did just that.

The house was big-very big, with two floors and a village of cottages surrounding it. One floor for living, one for the family, outside cottages for the servants, a field with posts connected with string in the back, and a wide dirt road leading up to the stables – no, this wasn't just a house, it was a manor.

I turned around and dismounted close to the forest behind the manor. Dropping my bow and quiver, I patted Luna's neck and let her stand.

"I'll be back soon, all right?" I started, stroking the white stripe on her face. "If I'm not, go. Just leave. If I'm not back here, I've prolly gotten myself caught, and I'll leave you just like Father did. So…" I paused, thinking about what would happen if I was caught. Not knowing it, I also stopped stroking Luna. She nodded, reminding me of what I was doing. "Oh, sorry," I said, continuing to stroke her mane. "You know what to do. Goodbye, Luna," I finished, patting her neck as a good-bye, hoping that she understood what I said.

I turned, and dashed silently into the manor, praying that I wouldn't be caught. I creaked open the front door and sneaked my way into the kitchen.

I stood there waiting – waiting for footsteps, waiting for a voice, waiting for someone to come and find me, then hang me for stealing from a knight or a lord's manor, but they never came. This was my chance _not_ to starve. And then I saw what I never expected to see…

There were the most amounts of food I have ever seen – chickens, meat, vegetables, bread, and cakes. How could they have so much while we work ourselves to the grave just to put bread on the table, only to have it taken away? But I would have to vent later, now I eat.

From the vast amount of food from the kitchen stores, I took three warm loaves of bread, a cabbage, several carrots, and a few apples. This would last me over a week if I hunted regularly, several weeks if I made it last. Once I was packed and ready to leave, there was a stern voice behind me.

"What d'you think you're doing?"

_Damn.

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**A little tidbit that never made it to the final draft:**_**How did Eleanor and James learn to read and write, coming from a poor family? **_**Eleanor's grandfather was supposed to be a scribe for the old Sheriff (Edward). He taught her father, who had no use for learning to read and write. He, then taught Eleanor and James, thinking they may need it somewhere in their lives.**

**Sorry if I haven't replied to reviews. Some messages in my inbox get deleted or I never received. I'm still working my way around this website.**

**So how was that? What happens next? R&R please!**


	11. Getting Caught

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Robin Hood or the BBC.

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The woman who said this was rather plain, normal in appearance, but with a hook-shaped nose, and small eyes that were watching my every move. Her expression was both sour and somewhat in shock that anyone would do such a thing.

She rushed over to me and grabbed me by my wrist.

"I must report you to my master," She scolded angrily.

"Oy! Let me go! Let me go now!" I shouted, trying to pull myself away from her strong grip on my wrist. Sadly, I failed in trying to break myself from her grip.

Whoever this woman was, she was pulling me buy the wrist, out of the kitchen stores, and into her master's quarters. She rapped on the door thrice, and within the same moment, her master burst out of his bedchamber, apparently still wide awake.

"What's this? Do you know how late it is?" Her master questioned, furious by the tone of his voice.

"We've got ourselves a problem," raising my wrist, the woman stated. Her master stepped out of his bedchamber, and I was tossed onto the floor. "Caught this one stealing from the kitchen stores, my lord," I was close to tears, mainly for pity, but he still glared down at me, in fury of what he had not seen.

"Please, my lord, show some sympathy. I was starvin' y'see?" I cried, making myself sound close to tears, and I kept my head down so he wouldn't see my eyes. "I had to eat, my lord, or I would die." I explained, hoping that my act would work, but it probably wouldn't. "I had to steal in order to live. I've got no money or family, please, my lord, have some sympathy." Closer to tears than ever, I restrained myself from looking into his eyes.

"All right," her master started coolly. "Take her to the barn. That's where the selfish pig belongs." _Selfish? A pig? Look who's talking, the bastard._ I thought. _He doesn't know what I've been through. He's the selfish pig here._ Luckily, I was able to restrain myself from lunging at him and attacking. But no, attacking a noble would surely have me hanged.

"Yes, my lord," said the woman. She, once again, picked me up by the wrist, and dragged me several paces before her master continued:

"Tomorrow, we take her to Nottingham."

She nodded, and dragged me outside into the cold barn, later locking the door behind me. So I paced around the barn, realizing that my only way out was a second-story window, which I refused to use.

Eventually, I settled down in a corner, and said a prayer for my loved ones and my safety. I curled up into a ball, and cried myself to sleep, in fear of what would happen tomorrow in Nottingham.

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**That kind of ended on a sad note…R&R please!**


	12. Guilty

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or the BBC.**

**This chapter also contains some strong language. Reader discretion is advised.**

**On another note: Reconciliation is a big word that means confessing your sins to a priest.**

It is dark in my cell. My back burns from the last whipping. It reeks of blood, piss, vomit and sweat. The dungeon guard walks up to my cell, half drunk and laughing. The keys jingle on a ring in his right hand. He looks through the ring searching for the right key, and jams it into the lock. The key wiggles around for a bit and the door slides open.

'You're next to swing," He laughs to himself. I try to shrink back into the corner but I can't. _No, it hurts too much_.

I've been whipped, burned, beaten and tortured. By now, death is a relief from this hellish life. I am a crumpled mess in a brown tunic on the floor, lying in my own blood and piss. He walks in and shouts at me.

"Get up!" The dungeon guard kicks me in the stomach. Every inch of my body cries out in pain, but I cannot scream myself. I am too weak, and every inch of my body is either bruised, broken, burned or bloodied. I hurt too much to even breathe. "Get up, you little bitch!" He drags me by my wrists and pulls me out to the courtyard…and the gallows.

I am propped up on a stool by the dungeon guard and the executioner, while the rough noose is wrapped around my neck and tightened.

_Am I crying? _I ask myself. I feel a single tear roll down my cheek. _No, I can't. Stop it. Stop crying. No. I have to be strong._ I try to raise up my chin, with all my strength. The most I can do is raise my eyes.

The stool is kicked out from under me. The rope tightens more and I feel a sharp pain in my neck. Death…is a blessing.

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I am in a church. It appears familiar but I can't put a name on it. A clergyman prays at the altar. He is thin and quite old, and robed in crimson. He prays in a language I don't understand. I look up and see a painting of Christ on a wall. Since I have nothing better to do, I decided to do the most appropriate thing to do – pray.

I get on my knees and bless myself. I pray for James' safety, for Addie's salvation, along with Mother. I pray for Father's redemption, too, considering his final and ultimate sin. I pray for the people who have it worse than I do, and I pray for my own deliverance.

"God forgive me, for I have sinned…" I whispered. At this, the priest turned around, his robes billowing as he moved. When I look at his face, I know who he was: the abbot of Kirklees. So this would be Kirklees Abbey. He smiles at me and says:

"My child. Have you come for Reconciliation?"

I don't know what to say, so I nod my head. He sits down next to me in the pew. "What troubles you?" he asks.

"My-my family has died, Father. And-and I didn't know what to do. I ran away and stole my brother's clothes. I stole coins from a tax collector while he wasn't looking. And…" _I can't say what I've done - stealing food, lying to myself about my future. No family in these times would want to adopt another child, especially at my age. True, a farmer would want another had, but not another mouth to feed._

"Tell me, child," answers the Abbot.  
"I have sinned. I lied and stole food from a lord's manor-and-and now I'm going to hang for it. I was so selfish. I tried to keep myself alive when I had nothing to live for. I don't know why God keeps me here like this." I look at the floor in my guilt.

"God wants you to stay on this Earth for a reason." He smiles at me like Father did.

His face changes into that of my father's. He still smiles while his eyes try to look into mine. "My dear Ellie," He places his fingertips under my chin so I will meet his gaze. "Don't talk like that. Don't make the same mistakes I have. Don't be like me."

"I miss you so much, Father." I cry.

"Put away your tears, Ellie. This isn't good-bye,"

"But you died! I saw you fall!"

"I will see you again, my little Ellie."

Everything faded to black, and I was alone.


End file.
